Talk With Your Children

As our nation reels with the tragedy at Sandy Hook Elementary School, I am forced as a mother to decide how to discuss the situation with my own children.  Here are some tips to help parents talk with your children.

1. Find a quiet time to talk with your child(ren).  We live in a technological world.  If we do not approach the topic, your child will most likely hear about it via friends or media.  I would rather be the source for my child’s information.  We are guardians of our children and need to guard what kind of information is going in.  I talked with my son this morning after his sisters had left for school.  He hadn’t heard anything as of yet.  I debated just for a minute about whether to discuss it or not.  I decided he would be going to school within 20 minutes and would most likely hear about it eventually.  So I took the plunge of discussion with my 10 year old.
2. Ask what your child knows about the tragedy.  Do not jump right in with details.  As with all situations, decipher what your child already knows.  Excessive details are not always necessary.  The age and individual sensitivity of your child needs to also play a factor as to how much and what information you choose to disclose.
3. Listen and correct the facts gently.  Hear your child and gently correct any inaccurate information.  As children talk amongst themselves, the story may change.  Keeping facts accurate is important.  We want our children to recognize parents as a source of truth and safety. 
4. Be general.  Do not go into the grim details of the tragedy.  Children have very active imaginations and do not need our help to add to any fear.  Our conversations with our children should be remarkably different from that with our peers and other adults.  (If you, as a parent, are having a difficult time with this situation, talk with a friend or respected adult before speaking with your children.  Our children are sensitive and can pick up on our fears and worry.)
5. Let your children ask questions.  Don’t be afraid to let your child ask questions.  It is okay to not know the answers. 
6. Differentiate your conversation.  Every child is different and reacts differently to situations.  Parents know our children best.  When talking with your child, take into consideration their age as well as their sensitivity to difficult situations.  Tread lightly and be cautious.  What may be important to you, as an adult, may cause undue worry to a child.  Your conversation with a teenager should be different than one with an early elementary student.
7. Give your child hope.  I read a quote from Mr. Rogers that encourages parents to help their children "look for the helpers.  You will always find people who are helping" when faced with a tragedy.  Looking at the situation at Sandy Hook, it is clear that this is a community filled with goodness and love.  Help your child see the overwhelming goodness in our world despite the presence of evil.  Teachers sacrificing their lives, police ready to save lives, nurses ready to assist.  We have good people around us.
8. Turn off the TV.  I know we want to stay up with the news, but remember a picture is worth a thousand words.  Unless you are willing to have a very long conversation with your child and explain everything their little minds tried to process, I would recommend not having the news on at all.  Listen to the radio, check updates on yahoo or on the internet.  Visuals are powerful and can send a message of fear.
9. Get involved.  Your child may want to respond to the situation.  Allow your child to write a card, send a note, light a candle, say a prayer….anything really.  Children are creative and if you allow them, they may help you through your feelings of grief through their acts of kindness and love.  Look for reliable sources offering ways for your child (and yourself) to respond and help people who have been hurt in this tragedy.  Red Cross or local churches may have options set-up.
10. Be there.  Be near your child the next few weeks.  Ask your teenager, “Are you okay?  Do you want to talk?” Ask your elementary child, “How was school?  How are you?  Do you want to talk about anything?”  Show your child that you are available and ready for them.  If they say no, let your presence be comforting.

I hope these tips can help you and your family through this very sad time in our nation.  Continue to pray for the families that lost their babies.

“Our Father in heaven, hallowed be your name,

Thy Kingdom come, Thy will be done on earth as it is in Heaven.

Give us this day our daily bread. 

And forgive us our debts as we have forgiven our debtors.

And lead us not into temptation, but deliver us from evil.

For thine is the Kingdom and the power and the glory of heaven.  Amen.

Historical Dislocation & Pumpkin Pies

With pumpkin pies still cooking in the oven and my family asleep upstairs, I am forced to endure the silence of the night.  I have come to love this time of night, when sounds are still and noises cease.  I can let my thoughts out and stretch.  It is within this "stretching," however that I wrestle with unformulated ideas and opinions.

It was during my mixing and measuring of my pies that I began thinking about life.  My pumpkin pie recipe comes from my sweet Grandmother (Nana) whom I continue to (and will forever) miss so dearly.  It is funny how a person's memory can live on in so many forms- even here, I remember her in my pie recipe.  I find myself so fortunate to have memories living on around me.  These thoughts lead me to wonder about other people not so fortunate.

I am currently reading a book by Henri Nouwen called, "The Wounded Healer."  The premise of the book is how ministers of the Gospel are going to need to adapt our message to be relevant to the changing culture.  The fascinating part of the book is that it was written in 1972.  The "recent studies" he highlights come from studies from the 60's.  It is remarkable at the near-pinpointed accuracy Nouwen has formulating our current culture.

Nouwen calls humanity in the future (us of today) a "Nuclear Man."  This term is dual in meaning.  He uses this term first because he foresees humanity as becoming very introverted and isolated.  While a person may indeed seem sociable and friendly, in reality, many are disassociated with true friendships and even family.  Secondly, man living in our present age are post-Nuclear.  We all live with the knowledge that Nuclear threat (though we do not like to think or talk about it) is real and could end life as we know it in a wink of an eye.  Perhaps life in 2012 is not quite as nuclear-fanatic as life in the early 1970's, however we still live knowing the frailty of humanity against such great evils.

The one element of Nuclear Man that I began thinking about while making my Nana's pumpkin pies is the lack of many in our culture to relate to the past.  Nouwen calls this "Historical Dislocation."  Because Nuclear Man is afraid of imminent doom, we (not knowingly) have detached ourselves from history, both past and present.  This disconnect can be seen in young adults not interested in having children "How could I bring a life into our evil world?," or in lack of parenting because "what difference does it really matter."  Or, "Why work towards a career since no one really knows how long life will last?"

I read this chapter about a month ago and have been chewing on this notion of detachment from history.  The ramifications of remaining isolated, set apart from the whole of creation is staggering.  If we do not see our lives in the framework of history, I fear we also loose hope.  As a Christian, so much of my hope is future oriented.  Of course, God is my present help in time of need, but so much of the promises of God we have yet to see or experience.  I would much rather live a life knowing I have worked with God to bring His Kingdom a step closer in my lifetime, than remain a sad, isolated life apart from history.  My little 80, 90-year-life is just a bleep in history, yes- BUT within my little "bleep" have a learned & taught those around me a little more than what we know before?  Has my influence been helpful or destructive to the whole of humanity?  Life is a MUCH bigger picture than we really understand if we cannot stand back and see our lives in the scope of history (past and present).

So I wonder, can a Christian be exempt from History?  How can we proclaim the Gospel and feel like our past and future is irrelevant?  I think about the many relatives and friends who have gone before me, paving my way for what freedoms and experiences I have today.  Almost like a tree that is continually branching out, if my branch decided to separate itself from the trunk, what future can my branch possibly have?

Oops!  My pies just peeped.  Time to pull them out and go to bed!

So maybe my thoughts are getting way too out there for you (I get deeper the later the evening goes!).  Or perhaps I've got you thinking too.  Are you connecting with your past?  Are you investing in your future?  Or are you living disassociated from your past and isolated from your future?  Interesting questions to ponder...lots of formulating yet to do!

Operation Christmas Child

"But it doesn't fit."

"Can we use a bigger box?"

"Can we send two boxes to one child?"

"What if the batteries wear out?"

"What will he do if the pencil breaks?"

These were a few of the questions I had to tackle at our recent outing to Target.  

Our church is collecting shoe boxes (through Operation Christmas Child) for children living in poverty around the world.  All three of my children jumped with delight at the opportunity to create a special little box for a child across the globe.

Decision #1: Girl or Boy?

Quickly enough, my girls chose to make a box for a girl, and my boy decided to create a box for a boy.  What a surprise (wink, wink).

Decision #2: What Age?

In years past, my children have tended to choose the age similar to their current age.  Surprisingly, this year, all three elected for the youngest age, 2-4 year old.

I wonder why they all chose the youngest age.  Perhaps because many of their cousins are younger?  Possibly because all my children volunteer at church with young children?  Or maybe because their favorite Christmas memories are found during their most early years of life.  Whatever the possibility, we were now on an adventure through Target to fill three boxes for three young children.

Decision #3: What to put into the box?

Perhaps the hardest part, indeed, was limiting my children to the tiny little boxes.  

"A shoe box never looked so small," my twelve-year-old daughter commented.

My girls (12 & 14) got busy finding tiny dolls, blankets, crayons & hair clips for their little girls.

My son (10), however, was stumped. He quickly had the realization that most the items he would personally enjoy, or that a young boy would want, were too big to fit in a shoe box.  He racked his brain with ideas until he surrendered and instead found me with his empty box.

"I just don't know, Mom.  None of the toys that I think he might like fit into the box.  Do you have any ideas?"
"What have you tried?" I questioned.
"A light saber, legos, a soccer ball, dump truck, stuff like that."
"Ok, those are good ideas.  Now I want you to think.  If you were a three-year-old boy living in a place where you had few toys, very little food and not much shelter and this was your only Christmas present, what would you hope to find in this box?"

Micah's eyes looked away in thought.  I could see him putting himself into the shoes of another person and asking himself that question.  After a few short seconds he turned back toward me and responded, "A teddy bear."

"Good idea."

We maneuvered around children throwing fits in the isles until we reached the plush animal section.  Micah locked eyes on a soft teddy bear who fit perfectly inside his box.  With lovingkindness, my tough, strong boy gently kissed the bear on its head and laid it in his shoe box.  Micah sent away more than just a shoe box.  His sent his love to an unknown child he would probably never meet.  It was like he experienced the "Grinch" phenomenon of having his heart grow in size.

Isaiah 54:2 reads, "Enlarge the place of your tent; stretch out the curtains of your dwellings, spare not; lengthen your cords."  When I read a verse like that, I have to question if it is mearly literal, or perhaps is illustrating a deeper meaning.  I believe that Micah had his tent (heart) expanded that day in Target and I pray we continue to give God permission to stretch our hearts to hold more love.  I pray we never settle with feeling "full," but instead use our feeling of satisfaction as a clue that it is time to stretch (though not always comfortable).

My family left Target that afternoon with excitement to watch our boxes travel to a child in need.  With great expectation we wait for an e-mail to tell us where our boxes arrived.  In the meantime, we will pray for the thousands of boxes being delivered and pray for salvation to come to villagers who have not yet encountered a Living God who loves each and every one of us so very much and gives us peace and hope even in the most dire of circumstances. 

I can also relish in the light of watching my children step inside someone else's "shoes."

We have so much to be thankful for as the holiday season approaches.  I pray we have the courage to trust God to expand our hearts and fill us with a greater abundance of love. 

Be sure to watch for opportunities to bring joy, peace and salvation to people in your path.  The blessing of giving to others far exceeds the temporary joy of receiving.

"For God so loved the world (that's the whole entirety of the world folks!) that he gave his one and only Son, that whoever believes in him shall not perish but have eternal life.  For God did not send his Son into the world to condemn the world, but to save the world through him."  John 3:16-17

That's what I call, Good News!

Unproductive Quiet

I decided to throw them away!

I have four nice, mature violets who never bloom! Yes, the leaves are lovely but pale in comparison to the dark purple flowers I could be enjoying.  Being the plant lover that I am, I did not immediately come to this conclusion.  My goal was for my family and friends to enjoy the plants downstairs.  However, being that my house faces east/west, it is impossible to put the plants in the south window I had always heard violets enjoy. 

"How finicky can a violet really be to know the different rays of sun from alternating directions?"

I had changed their location downstairs, switched up the moisture for the soil and even added some violet food- all amounting to still no blossoms.  In the back of my head (you know, that place where God speaks to us!) I knew I had to eventually try my one-and-only south facing window before I toss out my plants.

In my house, if a plant is not performing- it's out.  I don't have time for mediocrity.  I expect excellence.

Four week ago I hid my four violets upstairs in my south facing window in my bathroom. In one respect I was sad because if these little stinkers did not perk up and perform, I was going to have to say goodbye to good friends whom I have watered and talked with for years (yes, I talk to my plants).  Conversely, if they did bloom- no one could enjoy them but me!  What is the purpose of that?

Low and behold, within DAYS of my move, small buds began to unfold from the middle of the plants.  A week later I had a few purple blossoms on each of my four plants.  With a little more water and a little more time, my plants are booming with an array of flowers!

As I sit and reflect on my finicky plants I am reminded of the verse in John 15:4,

"Abide in Me, and I in you."

Do you ever have a season in your life where opening the Bible is work? I know I go through times when I open the Word of God and life flows from the pages. Other times, the Bible feels silent and removed.

It is in those times when I put my Bible aside and simply sit before my Father.  I have nothing to say and I have nothing to bring.  I do not bring a long list of demands (prayer requests) or my pencils for studing, I come empty-handed to soak in His presence.  My thoughts are quiet.  My mood reflective.


With three budding Christians in my house I teach them different ways to commune with God. I have encouraged them to try the, "be quiet and sit" technique, but often wondered if I'm incredibly off my rocker.  All I know is that I have indeed been supported, given peace and grown in my times of "unproductive quiet."  While my analytical side tells me I am waisting my time and will have nothing to show for my senseless act, I wonder how much of my spiritual growth has occured not in study, but in silence; not in talking, but in solitude.

My plants simply sit in the sun.  Not just any sun, the south-facing sun.  Even if all we can do sometimes is sit before our Father, I am conviced (thanks to my violets) that God is still at work within us.

Though no one else can see my beautiful purple violets, they stay in my bathroom as a daily reminder of God's incredible creation and abounding love for me. 

That's Not Fair

On Sunday we taught about the story of Esther.  Here was a woman of God who served her Lord in all she said and did.  Yet, things happened in her life that were “not fair.”  Our main point on Sunday was that God wants us to trust Him even when life is “not fair.” 

Four-times a year I encounter the absolute worst part of my job- recruiting time.  I send e-mails to parents and friends.  I challenge and encourage parents to take an active role in the spiritual development of their children.  I request help from parents, friends and grandparents.

This is also the time when I feel the most alone.  People do not respond back or even send me the courtesy of an e-mail letting me know they cannot help.  Some parents actually avoid me on Sunday mornings.  I am like the plague during this month of my life, four times a year.  And while I know it just comes with the territory and I should not take it personally, I can’t help but be sad. 

I wonder how other people would feel to have their job treated like an optional recreational activity that fits into life only when there is time.  I have sacrificed so much, given up so much of my time, energy and resources…only to feel alone.

I have a few people who give me strength and encouragement, but this load is even beginning to wear on them too.

As I stare at my fall schedule praying for a miracle and realizing I will once again be teaching every Sunday this quarter, I hear myself whisper, “that’s not fair.”

The phrase vibrates through me.  Where have I recently heard that phrase?

That’s not fair.

God’s quiet voice sweeps through the room, “Connie, trust me…even when life is not fair.” 

I can follow His lead physically, but emotionally this is going to be hard.

Some people play sports and experience being pushed to the extreme.  The physical realities of an athlete parallel the horribly painful walk of a Christ-follower.  I am a Christian and am pushed everyday.  Rain or shine, God does not relent to push me.  

This may indeed be a “not fair” situation, but God calls me to stand tall and walk in places where there is sometimes no justice.  I must live a life of trusting God knowing He knows the bigger picture.  Children are the small of society. 

God calls me to teach the small, love the weak and trust Him

...whether I feel like it or not,

...whether I have the energy or not,

...whether parents care or not.

There is a young life on the receiving end, hoping to encounter the Living God.  

“He has shown me, O man,

what is good and what the Lord requires of me.

 But to act justly, and to love mercy

and to walk humbly with my God.”  Micah 6:8

Life Is Worth It

Sometimes life hands us tough choices that we would rather not deal with, but are forced to tackled head-on.  Some decisions I have not yet encountered in life but think I already know how I would respond in that situation.  Even worse, sometimes I watch others make decisions and wonder why in the world they would have chosen that. (Judging at it's worst).  It isn't until I am faced with the same (or similar) situation that I begin to understand where people may be coming from...

My childhood days were filled with animals.  My many pets taught me a lot about life and love.  They also, unfortunately, taught me about death.  I have continued my teaching of death through pets to my kids. I've even told parents, "Every child needs a pet to love so that they can experience death."  (What a morbid way of looking at life!)  We had the misfortune a little over a year ago to put down our cat of 9 years due to a mysterious broken hip, among many other sad losses.

 

Yesterday my daughter called me crying,

"Mom! Come home quick! Something is wrong with Milo!" For those of you who do not know my amazing story of how we got our cat...basically God told me what to look for and where to find him (believe it or not).  I ran out of my office and hurried home to find my three children surrounding our injured Milo.  After a trip to the Vet it was determined that he suffered from a hip fracture.  His only hope was a hip surgery.

It was against all my principles to put hundreds of dollars toward a cat- even one as remarkable as Milo.

We took our broken kitty home to make a decision- life or death. My daughter and I cried on the way home knowing, without words, what our answer would have to be.

All through the afternoon I rationalized why the best choice would be to put my young cat down.  "It's a lot of money."  "That money could be spent on braces for my kids."  "That money was being saved for a mission trip to Mexico."  "He's a cat! Are we supposed to spend money on pets?"

Round and round I went.

Just when I thought I knew rationally what the correct answer was, my house would flood me with reminders of Milo: fur on my wood floors, a kitty door leading outside, the orange statue that looks just like him, my garden filled with holes where he likes to dig, the water bucket he drinks out of, the dog food he steals away from my dog, the scratches on the furniture, the picture of my son holding him as a baby kitten in the hallway, the chair he always lounges in, a kitty toy on the floor...

Sometimes I rely too heavy on logic.

What a shock to have my husband come home and question the possibility of surgery instead of putting Milo to sleep. I realized I had never considered saving my kitty. I have it in my messed up intellectual head that when a pet has an accident I simply say goodbye to the pet and not spend any extra money.

My husband had a different view: Milo is just over a year.  He's a healthy, strong cat.  The surgery is routine with amazing recovery.  This was all very odd since my husband is constantly complaining about the cat hair and annoyed at the claw marks on the furniture. Yet here he stands having more compassion on our beloved pet than I have!

What is wrong with me?

It was in that moment of conversation that I realized my thinking was messed up. "Oh well, another cat gone" was my quick response to a critical decision.  Of course there are times (and will be times) when the right decision is to put an animal down, but I had honestly never even considered saving him!

Well, to make a long story short, we decided to save him. 

It still rattles my mind that we are spending money on a cat! But then I think of the example I am setting: sometimes we need to fight for what we love even if it's hard and not give in to failure so quickly.  I find myself excited, but embarrassed that we are doing surgery on our kitty. 

My three kids have given me their birthday Target Gift cards to help with soaps & shampoos, they organized the recycling to get turned in, they volunteered to use their old backpacks for school this year and even did some chores around the house without even being asked!

Through this decision my children learned that while it is a lot of money...

Sometimes life is worth it! 

I Remain in You

It takes a lot to knock me down. I tend to be enough of a fighter that when someone pushes, I push back harder. I don't give in very easily.

I am also someone who is not quick to say that anytime something goes wrong, I must be under some kind of spiritual attack.

Funny how we often make these blanket statements just to have them blow up in our faces.  Unfortunately, I am quickly discovering my weak spot.  It's not a "thorn in the flesh" kind of weakness like Paul talks of nor is it a daily struggle with a sin issue or anythng like that.  No...it feels more like someone has broken my crutch that I have been relying on for strength.  Until I can figure out a different way to move- I am stuck!

Since mid-May my voice has been growing steadily weaker.  It is not gone completely, but I cannot speak very loudly, I cannot project, and worst of all...I cannot sing.  Now if you're someone who does not live and breathe worship you will not understand anything else I am about to say.

When my world is in scrambles- I turn to God in worship.  When my heart is heavy- I turn to God in worship.  When my spirit wants to rejoice - I turn to God in worship.  When my life feels like it is spinning too fast and I a loosing sight of my Father - I worship.  I don't play the piano or the guitar like some glamorous worship leader or famed musician.  My goal has never been to be musically astute.  My only goal is to use the gift of music God has given me to reach Him through worship.
 
This week has been Vacation Bible School.  Have I been able to lead the children?  Barely.  I wonder if they can even hear or understand what I'm saying.  It is so frustrating to be unable to communicate the message of God with these young people who have come and are ready to be challenged and grow!  I am encouraged by the children that have come.  I love seeing our amazing youth minister and play with the children.  I am blessed by the adults who are giving their time and energy to touch young lives.  But it breaks my heart that I cannot participate.  I can barely talk with guests bringing their children.  I can hardly speak with my precious volunteers.  And worst, with my heart so very heavy...I can't even cry in worship to God!  (Oh, don't worry, I've done a lot of crying...but I want to sing!!!)

Ugg...it is so very frustrating!

I was playing my guitar earlier today and couldn't help by whisper this song, "I Remain in You."  It's one of those songs I lean on when the going gets tough.  Satan may have broken my crutch, I may feel like I can't reach my Father through worship, I even may feel like I'm alone, but I will always remain in Him.  It's a great song.      

"How do I seek Your face when my flesh needs Your hands,
What must I do Oh Lord there's a need to understand.
I vow to sing though it feels You have slayed me with Your ways,
Let my grief be worship and still say, "Bless Your Holy Name."

I remain in You
I remain in You
Wherever I go, Lord, and whatever I do
I will remain in You."

Satan can take my voice so I cannot sing, cut off my fingers so I cannot play...but he will never have my worship. 

Bless the Name of the Lord.